The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1887-10-12

bursting out, though their reports, rapid as
q pack of big firecrackers, could scarcely be
heard in the grand uproar that prevailed.
Amid the magnificent racket the Volunteer
crossed on the heels of her rival, the respec.
tive time of the two being l2:34:5 81 and
south. Both boats stood across the
BAY, the Volunteer reaching furthest.
Then over the faces of the specta-
tors on the wharves, of the additional thou
sands that lined the shores, Of the black
throngs on the two forts, and the multitude
on the verandas of the shore hotels came
look of blankest surprise. The Volunteer,
furthest iushore, had caught breeze. The
Thistle was unlucky and did not share it. The
the most cheerful and careless Of moods,
while the Thistle stood still on the face of the
waters. Minute after minute tho strange
sight continued. 1t was partly luck and
partly Judgment, but it was unfortunate.
The race was to be ended i at the start it
seemed.
Yard after yard the Volunteer crept away
until she had nearly mile the advantage.
Then the sails Of the Thistle filled, and she,
too, started, but too late. 1t was one OF
those accidents that occur in all
races. The wind had shifted four
points to the westward The Volunteer had
caught it long ahead of her rival, and as she
went ahead Of her down the Bay it constantly
freshened and she got the first of its fresh
ness and increased her lead. 1t shifted
gradually, and the Thistle, trying to follow
the Volunteer continually fell on, until it
seemed that she was no match for the Burgess
boat in pointing. She headed in close to the
wind and fell Off so often as her sails began to
hutter that the superiority of the centerboard
boat in close sailing became more apparent
in seeming than it was in fact. The whole
fleet of spectators were surprised. They had
looked forward to a very close race, and 1t
had become simply procession.
All the way out to the Southwest Spit this
state of affairs continued. The throng of
boats rushed into the Narrows so close to-
gether that it seemed as if one could pass
from fort to fort by merely jumping from
deck to deck. They went forward rapidly
to keep up with the Volunteer, and,
consequently, interfered with the
Thistle. The wash of the steamers natur-
ally impeded her progress; and this would
have been source of general regret had
not the same thing happened later on to the
Volunteer, so that the injury was equalized.
The Volunteer was away in the lead. like
snow-white lamb leading the flock. They all
stuck close to her, leaving the Thistle far be-
hind, like a little black sheep that nobody
would speak to.
The course to the lightship was in the same
order with the same incidents. The old red
ship with its round day marks at the mast
head, rolled in quite a sprightly fashion
over the responsibility which had been
thrust upon anIs it. naw AND sst was gops
and Stripes. The floating city surrounded
her long before the Volunteer arrived. When
the white boat rounded they made such
whiStling and cannonading as the lghtship
never heard before. 1t was new Venice
out in the ocean. Secretary Whitney de-
clared it the greatest marine spectacle that
New York had ever seen.
The homeward course was not exciting. The
Volunteer had q lead that it was impossible
for the Thistle to overcome. After rounding
Buoy 10 she set her Spinnaker and fairly flew.
The Electra people made themselves merry.
The plain and simple fare of the cabin was
discussed with interest.
During the long course homeward the posi-
tion of the two boats changed little. Finally
the fleet of steamers, augmented by number
came to standstill about Buoy Is. The
Electra came to anchor. Everybody was
waiting to welcome the victor.
She came sweeping over the waters as il
she were alive. Her snow-white spinnaker
was drawing to its fullest, and she seemed
like a hurrying white cloud. The green
waves curled away under her fore
foot, holding up 10 her white gar
lands of victory. In the West the sink
ing sun was disk of molten red fire. Across
the dull green water. marking line straight
from the buoy to the flagship, it scattered
fiecks of ruddy liquid gold to mark the win
ming line. The steam fleet stood silent and
breathless The Regatta Committee watched
vigilantly.
aNowl'' cried Mr.. Taylor, as her mast
came into line. With q roar the two guns
of the Electra went off together. A broad
side echoed from all the feet. The yachts
were wreathed in blue powder smoke.
The signals nuttered, the spectators
chccred, the tugs, like flock of
brown beetles, rushed across the line to con-
gratulate her, and the whistles could have
been heard when they once got to going by
every sharp cared Scotchman on the Clyde
itself.
After many minutes came the Thistle She
too came rushing in with spinnaker set, but all
too late She too was greeted with cannon and
whistle, but it was rather melancholy. There
was no golden line across the restless water.
The sun had gone out behind the clouds and
the landscape was gray and cherries. A
silver moon shone down upon her coldly, for
it was cold day for the Thistle, the coolest
day she had seen in her racing experience. .